


A Sweet Moment

by Janina



Series: Mrs. Robinson [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Ice Cream, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:05:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10942248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: Sansa and Jon spend some time together.





	A Sweet Moment

It was July, hotter than hell, and Benjen was on vacation with a friend. That meant Jon and Sansa had her house to themselves, and they were making good use of it. When, that is, Jon was not working. He'd gotten a full-time job over the summer, doing landscaping with a local company, and not only did he make pretty good money, but he was getting a pretty good tan too, plus it was doing wonders for his muscles. 

His schedule was jam-packed through the week, leaving small windows of time where he and Sansa could spend time together, especially with Benjen around. Jon still wanted to go public, but she found that as long as she made time for him he didn't threaten to out them as he had at Benjen's graduation party. 

On that particular afternoon, they'd had lunch on the deck and then went back inside and collapsed in Sansa's bedroom with the air conditioner on. She wore a long flowing soft blue sundress and Jon wore a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a black t-shirt. They were facing each other her bed, each with a pillow of their own and Jon was gliding the tippy top of his fingers down her bare arm. 

"Sansa," he murmured. 

"Hmmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

He reached her wrist, grabbed her hand in his and kissed her palm before pressing it to his chest, right over his heart. He turned gray eyes on her in that intense Jon way he had. "Why did you marry Benjen's father?"

She made a face and groaned as she buried her face in the pillow. Then she sighed and looked at his expectant face. "I thought I was in love with him," she said. "And I was pregnant."

"It was a shotgun wedding?"

"Yeah, it really was. My parents were pissed and so were his. Cersei, my mother-in-law wanted to pay me off. His father wouldn't have it."

"You probably wished she had, right?"

"Hindsight being what is is, yes." She frowned. "He didn't just cheat on me, Jon."

Jon's brow furrowed. "Oh?"

She raised her eyes to his. "He was angry all the time. He hated being married. He hated me. He was being forced to work for the first time in his life and he was not happy about it. He would fly off into these rages..." She rolled over onto her back, dislodging her hand from Jon's. He moved closer. He was always moving closer. It was one of the things she loved - _liked_ \- about him. He made her feel so wanted. It was as though he couldn’t bear to not be touching her, or at least have her close enough to touch. 

She hadn't realized how much she was lacking in feeling anything resembling affection that wasn't from her son until Jon gave it. And he gave it so freely. Every time she opened the door to him, he was grinning like a fool. And once the door was closed he was sweeping her up in his arms and kissing her as though they'd been parted for months, not just a day or so. 

The first time they made love it was always frantic. Tearing at each other’s clothes, the desperation and need to be joined strong in them. And then, the second time they made love - and there was always a second time with Jon - he took her slowly, making her look him in the eye as he made love to her so sweetly it felt as though he was wringing pleasure from her body and her soul. 

"Sansa, did he hurt you?" Jon asked quietly, and she heard the edge of menace in his voice. 

She nodded. "Once. I never let him do it again. I was afraid for Benjen so I got away."

"I want to kill him for ever hurting you," he whispered in her ear. 

Sansa rolled onto her side and looked at him, his eyes blazing. "Don't worry, my love. He can't hurt me now. And he won't hurt Benjen. Tyrion and Bronn and even his new wife make sure of that. I’ve never told Benjen that his father hit me. Don’t tell him, okay?”

“Never,” Jon said, and then he broke into a wide smile that was both adorable and contagious. "My love, huh?"

Had she said that? She had. 

She tried to shrug it off with a laugh, and he pulled her on top of him so that she straddled him. Their hands entwined, she kept trying to push his down to the bed while he kept trying to push back up. Finally, he let her win and she laughed as she pressed his hands to the bed. He lifted his head, capturing her mouth with his and moaned. "I love you."

Sansa straightened and he groaned, looking up at her pleadingly. "My turn to ask a question," she said. 

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

"Tell me about your Mom. About home."

He laughed. "Are you worried about me? Think I'm some derelict with Mommy issues because I want you so much?"

"Welllll...."

"My Mom is the best Mom - besides you of course. She does work a lot, and I was alone a lot, but she never ignored me, never made me feel unwanted. I have always known that my Mom loves me. There aren't any forgotten birthdays or feeling neglected. Well, not from my Mom anyway. My Dad on the other hand..."

"What happened to him?"

"He cheated on his wife with my Mom. Then bailed on my Mom. He never told her he was married...so he was an asshole of a whole different breed. He tried to keep it all hush hush, but she wouldn't have it. He sent us child support, but that's done now that I'm eighteen. He did send me a nice fat check for graduation. I'm pretty sure he was paying me to stay the fuck away from him."

Sansa pulled her hands from his and traced his bottom lip with the tip of her finger. "Does it make you sad?"

He captured her finger and sucked it into his mouth, lashing the digit with his tongue. He then pulled it from his mouth and said, "No. It makes me angry."

"Have you ever said anything to him?"

"Sure I have. It doesn't matter. _He_ doesn't matter."

"But—"

"Sansa, I don't want to talk about my father. I'm here with you, and we have the rest of this day and night."

She arched a brow. "Night?"

"My Mom told me that now that I'm eighteen if I get a girlfriend and want to spend the night with her, I can. I just have to let her know that I'm not coming home."

"Is that why you brought a bag in?"

He grinned and ran his hands up her skirt and along her thighs. "Of course, sweet girl. I have you all to myself. Just the way I want it."

"You know what I want?" she purred, leaning over him until her mouth was inches from his.

"Tell me. I'll give you anything and everything you want, Sansa," he rasped and lifted his head to kiss her. 

She leaned back, laughing, and moved off of him. "I want ice cream!"

She laughed, running to the kitchen, and heard him swear and scramble off the bed. He caught up to her just before she got into the kitchen, and yanked her back against his front, growling in her ear, "You little vixen."

She giggled and he spun her around and then swept her up in his arms and carried her to the counter where he placed her down. She spread her legs, so he could get between them, and he pulled her down by the back of her head gently and kissed her. "What does my girl want?" he asked. "I know for a fact you have you Mint Chocolate Chip and Butter Crunch in there."

"It feels like a Mint Chocolate Chip kind of day."

"It does," he agreed and went to the freezer. He opened it and pulled out the carton of ice cream while Sansa reached into the drawer by her leg and fished out two spoons. 

Jon came back over to her and opened the ice cream and for the next few minutes they ate ice cream right from the carton together. And then Jon put her spoon in the sink and started to feed her ice cream with his. Every once in a while he took a bite of his own. 

"I've had enough," she said after a few spoonfuls. 

"Have you?" he murmured. "I'm not done yet..."

But he placed the carton and the spoon down and, while looking up at her in the eyes, pushed her dress up. 

"What are you thinking?" she asked with narrowed eyes, a grin on her face. 

"I want a little cream with my dessert."

When he slid his hand up her thighs, his eyes widened. "You _are_ a vixen. You're not wearing panties."

She shrugged. "I figured I'd be getting rid of them at some point."

He grinned. "You figured right."

With her skirt up around her thighs now, Jon leaned down and bit down lightly on her right inner thigh. Then her left. Then he stuck his face right in her pussy and Sansa gasped and gripped his hair. His tongue was magic. Every time he went down on her it felt as though he was making a meal out of her. 

His tongue on her clit, in her hole...his teeth scraping her clit... Godddd....

He was bringing her closer and closer when he pulled his face away abruptly. He looked positively feral as he dipped his hand in the ice cream and scraped up some on his finger. Then he place it on her clit and she started. "Oooh!"

He chuckled darkly and licked at her. Then he gathered up more on his fingers and smeared it over her labia and clit. His tongue swirled, his mouth sucked. Sansa gripped his hair and he growled, "Pull it."

That turned her on even more and she pulled. “Harder,” he said into her cunt. She pulled harder and he grunted, licking and sucking as one would on an ice cream cone. 

Sansa came, screaming. He continued to lap at her until she pushed him away. He straightened, his beard wet. His expression spoke of want and need and love. 

He pulled her down and into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He placed her on the bed and stripped, his gaze focused on her the whole time. He was panting. He looked ready to combust right there in front of her. 

Sansa shimmied out of her sundress and tossed it to the floor. Naked, his hard cock pointing right at her and leaking precum, Jon climbed onto the bed and then over her. He caged her in with his body, and she spread her legs and bent her knees, holding him against her with her thighs against his hips. He reached down between them and placed himself at her opening. 

“Look at me,” he whispered. 

She met his gaze. 

“Don’t look away,” he said and began to inch inside her. 

It was intense, the way he made love to her. When he was seated within her, he sighed, sounding content, and kissed her softly. “I love you,” he murmured. 

He set up a steady rhythm, fucking her with long strokes. When she bit her lip and shut her eyes he demanded she open them. 

“Jon,” she moaned, feeling her skin begin to heat. A light sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. 

He pressed his forehead to hers as he picked up the pace. “I love you,” he said again, breathlessly. All she could see and feel, smell and hear, was him. He surrounded her. He didn’t allow for anything else. 

Her hands gripped his sides as he moved within her and when her orgasm began she dug her nails into him. 

“Mine, my girl, my girl, mine,” he babbled, his thrusts erratic and fast. He was close. He came with a shout of her name and buried his face in her neck when he was done. He moaned and licked at her neck and then sucked hard on the skin. 

“Jon!” she squealed. “No hickeys!”

He kept sucking and she batted at him. He pulled his mouth off her, laughing. “It’s a small one,” he assured her. He brushed his fingers across the mark he’d left on her. “Mine,” he said with a nod of his head and then bent down and kissed her. 

When he lifted his head and gazed down at her, it was hard to keep his gaze. No one had ever looked at her so intensely before. So reverently. So, she made a slight face and said, “Your hand is all sticky now.”

He smiled, a smile that told her he knew she had a hard time in these moments. That his love and need for her overwhelmed her. “Then I guess a shower is in order,” he said and lifted off of her. He scooped her back up into his arms and Sansa rested her head on his shoulder. She had a funny feeling she was falling in love with him.


End file.
